


I've no need for mighty deeds when I feel your arms around me

by makesometime



Category: GreedFall (Video Game)
Genre: (technically) - Freeform, F/M, First Time, Friends to Lovers, I tried to keep this with a generic de Sardet but they had other ideas, Loss of Virginity, Woman on Top, de Sardet is sassy and Kurt is hopelessly in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 17:09:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21019292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makesometime/pseuds/makesometime
Summary: Choosing his moments is something Kurt prides himself on. The right time to speak. The right input to give. His vaunted position was not obtained by running his mouth and impulsive actions.It's what makes his snap decision to invite de Sardet to a private moment, in the midst of hunting down potentially their best lead to curing the Malichor, damn near impossible to justify.And her positive reaction to his fumbled, nervous, offer even more so.





	I've no need for mighty deeds when I feel your arms around me

**Author's Note:**

> 3,000 words of smut, here we gooo...

Choosing his moments is something Kurt prides himself on. The right time to speak. The right input to give. His vaunted position was not obtained by running his mouth and impulsive actions. 

It's what makes his snap decision to invite de Sardet to a private moment, in the midst of hunting down potentially their best lead to curing the Malichor, damn near impossible to justify. 

And her positive reaction to his fumbled, nervous, offer even more so. 

They return to Hikmet late after a tense stopover in the woods following their rescue of the Tierna harh cadachtas, disappointment and confusion and anger lingering in the air around de Sardet. Typical easy fireside conversation had been replaced by furtive glances and concern from their companions. 

He half expects her to storm right up to Governor Burhan despite the time of night and give the man a piece of her mind,  _ again _ . A part of him would enjoy the sight of it.

But they reach the door of her residence and Kurt watches her shoulders drop, the truth of her weariness washing over her momentarily. She dismisses them all to their evenings with a small smile that lingers just a moment too long on him before she disappears into the house.

Vasco pushes at his shoulder, broad smile in place on his tattooed face. “Can I tempt you to join me for a drink?”

The Naut’s expression turns smug at the first hint of his hesitation. He should go, really, if only to give de Sardet some time to herself. And a drink might calm the roiling bundle of nerves in his stomach.

Kurt gestures expansively towards the tavern, forcing his back on the house before his traitorous feet can take him there. “Lead the way.”

He returns to the house a hour later with a warm ball of alcoholic heat in his gut, which tempers some of his natural hesitation. Pushing the door open, he finds the lower floor empty, footsteps sounding quietly from above.

The base de Sardet has built in Hikmet is similar to the one she fostered so carefully in New Sérène. But while the basics are the same, it lacks a little homeliness, a little familiarity. Lugging portraits and knick knacks across the landscape to a city she has no great fondness for isn't exactly a viable option. 

Making his way to the stairs, he brushes a hand over the hat she left on the end of the banister and quickly tugs his off, resting it on a side table. Much as he might have wanted to tidy up before coming here, he recognises it as a fruitless venture - they’ve traveled side by side through the wilderness for weeks and she  _ still _ fancies the look of him. Mad as that sounds, it’s reassuring.

When he turns the corner of the staircase he spots her shadow spilling out across the wall, still as she waits for him. Kurt hastens his pace up the final few steps and finds her standing in the doorway, wearing only a pair of tight, wear-softened leather trousers and an old shirt that is large enough on her to almost look like one of his own. It is a cruelly calculated look, the candlelight behind her illuminating her form through the thin cotton. 

If he took a moment to stare, which he is entirely too stubborn to do, he would be able to make out the precise curve of every part of her.

“Green Blood.” He greets, standing stiffly on the landing. She smirks, all gentle confidence, but does not break her silence. “I expected we might have something to eat.”

“Oh Kurt…“ Her lips twist, pleased and proud to have left him off-kilter. “I suppose we could, though I see little need to stand on ceremony when there is no one here to know but us.”

“You are sure?”

Her laughter is soft and fond - not cruel, as the worst part of his mind had taunted she would be - and she walks backwards into her bedroom. “Come here, you idiot.”

De Sardet’s eyes flash with heat at the speed with which he approaches her, a dam broken by her invitation. His palms itch with the need to touch her, reaching out for the hand that she has half-lifted from her side. Their fingers thread together and she exhales something that might be his name as he pulls up just short of her.

No. Their first kiss shouldn’t be some bawdy affair. She deserves better and he  _ desires _ better.

“I’m glad you’re here.” She whispers, drawing his hand to rest on her ribs. 

She folds her palms flat on his breastplate, tips of her fingers toying with the straps holding it in place. She is so  _ warm _ beneath his hands. So alive.

“Me too, Green Blood.”

Her lips twist in a frustrated moue. “Kurt…”

A bubble of confidence is building in his chest, and he leans in to kiss the strong line of her jaw. “Sweet Excellency.”

She shivers, fiercely, pressing ever closer with a laugh. “Kurt!”

He pulls back, humming low in the back of his throat. “ _ Elena. _ ”

She tugs at the leather straps and catches up his falling armor, dropping it off to the side for later retrieval. His solid jacket follows, leaving him about as dressed as her. “Mm, better.”

Before he can inquire whether she prefers his state of dress or his use of her name, Elena kisses him, stealing back any initiative he might have mistakenly felt himself gathering.

Her lips are the softest part of her he has had the pleasure of touching, unblemished by the rigours of a hard life on the road. Her tongue strokes over the seam of his mouth and he opens to her with a needy groan, wrapping his arms tighter around her form. She is  _ good _ at this, in a way that he’s glad he had no knowledge of before now. It would have been torture to get anything done.

Her fingers are busy between them as she grins and nips into his kiss, tugging his shirt free of his pants and undoing it while somehow never really losing the close contact that each of them crave. Kurt is grateful for the cool air on his skin when she strips it from him, her nails scratching over the muscled plains of his back.

Only when she moves to his belt does Kurt grip her wrists. “Not so fast.”

“You are  _ determined _ to frustrate me.” She pouts, though her grumbled words stop quickly when he begins to unbutton her shirt.

She is bare beneath it and Kurt curses at the sight of her hardened nipples, rosy and inviting. The shirt hangs loose at her sides, framing her, the long lean line of her belly, the flushed skin at the base of her throat.

Kurt tugs her close, hands hard at her waist and listens as she sighs greedily into another kiss.

He’s shadowed her every step for long enough now to hazard a guess that this is her first time doing any more than a quick fumble. It’s a heaping of responsibility that could lead to a crippling inability to act, were he less tangled with her, her bare skin pressed to him in new and exciting places.

He shoves the remains of her loose blouse down until it is caught at her wrists, holding her arms behind her just enough to thrust those pretty tits forward. She’s moaning loudly before he’s even really conscious of his actions, suckling sharply at one nipple, then the other. She shifts and tries to free her arms but Kurt holds the material firm.

“ _ Kurt _ .”

Her whine of his name is music to his godforsaken ears. The fight leaves her quickly, her hips rolling needily against his stomach and  _ shit _ , he’s going to have to remember that his Green Blood isn’t averse to giving up a little of her vaunted control.

He leaves the dampened skin of her chest in favour of her throat, her jaw, sucking hard enough beneath her ear to leave a bruise that her hair will cover. He spans his hand lower on her back, dipping into the waistband of her trousers to cover her ass and teases a finger lower…

Elena jerks and laughs, pushing him away. He can feel the admonishment in the air between them,  _ I’m a  _ ** _lady_ ** _ , Kurt _ . 

Yet her cheeks flame with colour, embarrassed and intrigued all at once. He watches as she turns from him and crosses to the bed, firelight catching on her skin, scars and all. She may be a lady, but she is as rough around the edges as he.

He remains still as she sits on the edge of the bed, chest heaving, hands gripping hard at the blankets. She is nervous, again. Toeing off his boots, Kurt removes his belt and drops it on the growing pile of abandoned clothes, before moving to join her.

Her bright eyes are warm as he stops in front of her and then drops to his knees, pushing her legs apart to accommodate his breadth. “I’ll stop any time you wish.”

Elena smiles, sliding her hand over his cheek and drawing him up to her for another kiss, grunting hungrily into it when he quickly opens and removes her trousers, leaving her completely bared to his gaze.

Hesitance is generally neither of their favoured approaches, but when he parts her legs again her breath hitches. Kurt pauses, eyes fixed on hers, a silent question in his gaze.

“I’m glad it’s you, Kurt.” She admits, flushed with anticipation and a sweet tinge of embarrassment. “There’s no one else who’s ever come close.”

He places a lingering kiss over her heart and then sits back on his heels, looking down to see darkened curls, slick glistening on the insides of her thighs. Any concerns that she may not desire this fly out of his head, and his cock pulses behind the confines of his remaining clothing.

With a groan he buries himself between her legs, mouth working to part her and gather as much of her slick on his tongue as he is able. Elena yelps, hand flying to the back of his head, the intensity of the sensation unexpected.

It will not take long to undo her like this. Kurt swipes his tongue over her clit, feels her shudder with each pass. Her nails bite five points of pain in his scalp but he wears the hurt as a badge of honour, ducking his head to push his tongue inside her, probing and teasing and feeling the first flutters of release build in her.

“ _ Shit _ , Kurt that feels incredible…” 

He smirks, moving a hand from holding her thigh to press his thumb to her clit, massaging hard circles that have her thrusting forward into him as she all but screams, shaking with sensation.

If that isn’t gratifying, he doesn’t know what is.

“Shit shit shit.” She breathes, brushing hair out of her face and finally dropping her iron grip on his hair. “I’ve never been able to make it feel that good before.”

And that is a fucking incredible image; Elena spread out, fingers buried between her legs and plucking at her nipples. Kurt huffs out a breath, rising up and leaning over her so that she falls back into the mattress. He dips his fingers down and into her cunt, one slipping in so easily that he spreads her gently with a second.

“What did you think of?” He growls, pitching his voice low and husky. “When you fucked yourself?”

Elena grins, gooseflesh chasing over her skin at his turn to coarser language and her part in inspiring it. She rolls her hips, running her fingertips down the arm that holds him firm above her.

“It’s always you, Kurt. Always you.” She hisses when he scissors his fingers, bowing up off of the bed. “Any way. All the ways.” She laughs, drawing her foot up flat on the bed. “We’ve got a lot to try.”

Images flash through his mind’s eye with enough ferocity that he yanks his hand away and stands up, hurrying to shuck himself of the rest of his clothing. He palms himself as Elena presses up on her elbows, eyes fixed on his cock and lip caught between her teeth to stifle yet more of her delicious moans.

“Maybe we start with something simple.” He walks around to the other side of the bed and settles himself against the headboard. 

Elena shifts to kneel beside him, reaching out to take his cock in hand. Kurt’s head snaps back and impacts with the wood of the bed but he barely feels it, the tentative squeeze and pull of her hand everything that’s important in his world.

“We are not simple people, Kurt.” He feels the bed move as she shifts to sit over his thighs and cracks his eyes open to watch as she rocks ever so slightly against his leg.

He wraps his hands over her hips and pulls her forward, trapping her hand between their bodies. “Just this once, what do you say?”

Elena’s eyes widen as he urges her up onto her knees and he covers her hand with his own to guide his cock to her entrance. He leaves the final choice in her hands, drinking in the naked pleasure on her face as he starts to slowly enter her. 

Another time, perhaps, he will slam her down and take her until she is begging for the spark to push her over. Another time, she will tease him along the length of her cunt without ever taking him inside her, drawing them both taut as bowstrings.

For now, Kurt is more than content to let her set the pace, inch by inch of him disappearing into the slick heat of her body. He holds his breath, waiting until she exhales a reedy sigh and sits firmly over his lap.

“Good?” He speaks through a grimace, holding painfully still.

Elena leans forward and kisses him, shifting her hips and whining. Shaking hands settle on his shoulders and she buries her face in his throat for a moment, cursing quick and quiet under her breath.

“It’s… intense.” She murmurs. “So  _ full _ .”

She flatters him, but it has the intended impact. Kurt kisses her cheek, smoothing his hands down to cup her ass. With a gentle press, he encourages her to move.

Elena remains pressed tight to him even as she learns the angles that work for her, the right depth and pace to make stars burst behind her screwed-tight eyelids. The world narrows down to this room, this bed, this woman in his arms, and Kurt is happy to be swept away by the force of nature that is Elena de Sardet. 

When she pushes up, he can see overwhelming love in her eyes and it leaves him shaken in the very best way. She starts to ride him truly, then, confidence growing with each sigh she draws from him, every tightening of his fingers on her skin. The bed creaks and knocks against the wall with every thrust, and he brings his knees up so that he has purchase to meet each bounce of her hips. 

" _ Kurt.  _ Touch me,  _ please _ . Just a little more."

"As my lady desires." Elena shivers when he ducks his head to suck at her nipples, slides a hand around to tweak her clit until the only sounds she makes are plaintive and desperate. 

When she comes, he feels a rush of magic fly from her body as all of the windows open with a thud, the candles guttering and going out. Elena calls his name loud enough for the street below to hear and Kurt's chest swells with an intense masculine pride. 

It's all he can do to hold on when she pulses and clutches around his cock, wanting to keep watching her for as long as she's lost to pleasure. Eventually he has to pull her up and off him lest he lose himself inside her. With a few quick jerks of his wrist he spills over both her belly and his own, coming with an intensity that leaves tears in his eyes. 

The next thing he's really aware of is Elena shivering in his arms and a displeased groan in his ear. "I'm cold. And sticky."

He chuckles softly, nosing the ridge of her cheekbone. "Welcome to the undiscussed aftermath."

Elena pushes off him, walking to shut each of the windows and fetch a cloth from the wash bowl. He watches her move, confident despite shaky legs, acting as if she isn't covered in his spend and her own - or, more likely, that she doesn't care. 

"I can see why no one talks about it." She murmurs, swiping herself clean, rinsing the cloth and returning to him. 

He expects to clean himself, so the curious swipe of her finger through the white stripes on his skin makes him still. He watches, halfway disbelieving, as she brings her hand to her mouth and sucks the digits clean, humming thoughtfully to herself.

"Not unpleasant."

Kurt can only laugh, weak in the face of everything unexpected that his Green Blood ever does. She's gentle as she cleans him, avoiding too much overstimulation. She throws the soiled cloth across the room, in favour of curling into his side and tugging the covers across them both. 

"You'll be sore tomorrow." He says, holding her more firmly to his chest. "I'm sorry for that."

"I'm not.” Elena scoffs, stretching her legs out to tangle with his. “Any discomfort is a small price to pay.” She reaches up to scratch her nails over his beard. “I expect I will have to contend with a little redness from this, as well."

Kurt pulls a face, rubbing his hand across his chin. “I will shave, next time.” 

“Don’t you dare.” 

Her words are instantaneous and fierce, but not in response to his assumption of a repeat visit. Kurt smiles through blooming emotion that threatens to overwhelm him, Elena entirely unaware as she waxes poetic about his damn beard.

Kurt tips her chin up and leans in to kiss her, tender and sweet. “You are an odd one.”

She blinks up at him, sleepy and sated and he knows without doubt that he could get used to seeing this, as frequently as she will let him.

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from For the Dancing and the Dreaming, because these two are just the most schmoopy couple <3


End file.
